Between the Light and the Darkness - Chapter 6

He was in an empty village. He wasn't sure why he was there, or how he got there, but he was there nevertheless. The small primitive homes lined a narrow dirt road, which was deserted. The houses were all dark and quiet. He wondered what time it was. It was night, so he guessed the townspeople were sleeping. That must be why it was so quiet, but that just didn't seem right. A sense of foreboding came over him as he started walking.

He walked down the empty street, cold darkness spreading through him with every step. Something in his mind warned him to stop, but he felt strangely pulled. He tried to fight the feeling, but was unable to do that, either.

And then he saw it, a small hill in the distance, just outside the village. He walked towards it. An acrid odor hung in the air, burning his nostrils. As he approached, the stench worsened.

The hill was a compiliation of death. Skeletons were interspersed throughout, becoming one with the dirt. Though they had no remaining skin, the air smelled of rotting flesh and stale blood. It was almost overpowreing.

Tim reeled from sight of the death mound. He could almost hear the screams for help, the cries for mercy. He felt an intoxicating mixture of emotions; rage, despair, anger, fear. Who or what was capable of doing such a loathesome thing? He broke out into a cold sweat and his head started to spin.

He lost his balance and fell on one of the bodies. It made a sickening squish/crunch beneath him.

He heaved uncontrollably, his stomach in knots. As he was wiping his mouth on his sleeve, a mocking laughter started somewhere in the distance. He looked towards the sound, but saw nothing. The sound grew louder, suddenly seeming to come from everywhere at once; a hideous cackle that caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

Suddenly, atop the hill, there stood a woman dressed all in black with long, flowing silvery hair.

"Ileeya," he whispered.

"Fool!" she hissed in a demonic voice.

The bodies spontaneously combusted. The sudden force of air knocked Tim backward. The fire was close enough to singe him and he smelled the sweet odor of his own burning skin and hair. He tried to crab walk away from the blaze, but no matter how fast or hard he tried, he couldn't get any further from away from it.

He heard the laughter again, deafening this time. A horrible demon with bedraggled white hair and silver-white eyes swooped down at him from above. It was inches from his face, breathing hot, rancid air at him.

The demon picked him up and threw him, bodily, into the flames. He felt himself roasting, his skin blistering and charring, his hair melting. He screamed in sheer agony as he tried to roll out of the fire, leaving a trail of burnt skin and clothing.

He awoke as he rolled into the stone wall of the cell. He sat up with a start, then lied back down, pressing his sweat drenched body against the cool stone wall. All he could do, for what seemed like an eternity, was lie there, shaking.

When he finally started to regain his senses, he got up and splashed a little water on his face. He downed a cup of water as well, to moisten his dry mouth and throat. He was just making his way back to bed when Ileeya started stirring in her sleep.

She was mumbling incoherently and thrashing about, apparently having a bad dream of her own. Her voice rose and now she was speaking in a desperate high pitched voice. Naturally, he couldn't understand her native tongue, but one name kept popping up frequently: Shirra. He wondered who Shirra was. Just when he began to worry that Ileeya was getting out of control, she started to quiet down and become still. Her breathing evened out and she slept normally.

Tim spent the rest of the night curled in a tight ball, trying to warm himself up and fall asleep. He missed his comfy waterbed back home, with the gentle waves of the mattress rocking him to sleep. This mattress was hard and unyielding. He tossed and turned the remainder of the night.